


taste the feeling

by hyuckheis (johnyongs)



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Office, M/M, only rated T bc of a single unsolicited dick pic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-08
Updated: 2017-03-08
Packaged: 2018-10-01 05:17:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,508
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10181495
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/johnyongs/pseuds/hyuckheis
Summary: boss: do u know why i called u in here?me: i accidentally sent u a dick picboss: [stops pouring two glasses of wine] accidentally?[previously titled "bottoms up"]





	

**Author's Note:**

> my frIENDS there arent enough words to apologize  
> i tried to post this about 4 seperate times before it actually said it was posted, and then my dumb ass didnt check to make sure the whole story was up, and when i tried to fix it, it still wouldnt show the whole story. i had to delete the story and try again. and then i had to do that like 3 more times???? what the FCUK. hopefully everything is alright this time. thank u to those who commented on the glitch!

It’s Kun who delivers the bad news, face grim as he knocks on the wall of Sicheng’s cubicle, more a formality than anything else. Sicheng closes his eyes, takes a deep breath, then turns to Kun. 

 

“What’s up?” he asks, trying to sound like he’s not expecting this. Kun plays along for Sicheng’s sake, but Kun has never been as good at schooling his expression. 

 

“Boss wants to see you.” 

 

“Oh, really?” Sicheng’s voice cracks at the last second, and he and Kun both wince. “Did he… say why?” 

 

Kun shifts the weight on his feet in discomfort. “He just asked me to get you. He sounded… serious.” 

 

Sicheng doesn’t bother to mention that Lee Taeyong  _ always _ sounds serious. He takes a deep breath. “Okay, I’ll go see what he wants.” 

 

He turns to his desk and adjusts some of the papers, before taking one final look at his cubicle. Maybe this is the last time he’ll see it this way, before he’s fired and asked to pack up all his belongings. 

 

“Listen… Sicheng… I’ll talk to one of my friends at JYP… they’ve been looking for good accountants for a while now and I’m sure if I put in a good word--”

 

Sicheng stops Kun’s concerned ramblings with a hand on his shoulder. “Don’t worry about me. I’ll figure something out. I’ll just… see what he says first.” He tries his best to smile, but his heart is racing too fast in his chest, his skin feels like it’s burning. 

 

Kun purses his lips, clearly wanting to say something, but stays quiet. Instead, he takes Sicheng’s hand and squeezes it in support. Sicheng gives him one last smile, before heading for Taeyong’s office. 

 

As he walks down the hallway, he sees Renjun and Chenle peering out of their own cubicles. Sicheng has never seen Chenle look so upset, his normal smirk replaced by a watery frown. Renjun tries to smile, but it comes out shaky, mirroring Sicheng’s own. 

 

\--

 

Sicheng stares despondently at the bottle of vegetable oil. “You’re sure I don’t put it in with the water?” 

 

Yuta scoffs over the line, clearly tired of explaining the simple task of making tteokbokki to Sicheng over the phone. “I’m sure that if you put oil in water, your apartment is gonna go down in flames.” 

 

Sicheng clicks his tongue and puts the bottle down to peer at the boiling pot filled with rice cakes. All he’d wanted was to prove to himself that he wasn’t terrible in the kitchen, that he could rely on himself and not all the food Jaehyun and Doyoung sent home with him twice a week. Tteokbokki wasn’t supposed to be this difficult. 

 

Or was it?

 

His phone pings, and he picks it up off the counter. “Oh,” he gasps, out of reflex. 

 

“What? Did the oil splatter? I fucking told you--” 

 

“Taeyong texted me,” Sicheng says, staring at the notification on his screen. 

 

“ _ Oh, _ ” Yuta coos. “Did he finally confess his undying love for you? Ask you to marry him and run off into the sunset?” 

 

“Shut up,” Sicheng mumbles, clicking on the chat. Even though it’s probably the furthest thing from what Taeyong could have texted him about, it makes his cheeks heat up. It was common knowledge in the financial department of NCT Advertising Inc. that Sicheng had a massive crush on Lee Taeyong, the director of finances. 

 

Chenle and Renjun and Yuta were always quick to tease him about it, to ask what he could  _ possibly _ see in Taeyong, but Sicheng only wondered what anyone  _ wouldn’t _ see. Taeyong, although reserved and mostly stone-faced, was unbearably kind, selfless, and hardworking. 

 

When Sicheng first transferred to the company from Shanghai, Taeyong had been quick to welcome Sicheng with his soft, reassuring voice, and give him a hand whenever he needed it (which was really often the first year). 

 

They had never crossed the line between boss and employee, but they skirted close sometimes. Like now, when Taeyong was texting him about the finances report through text rather than official company email (Sicheng can hear Yuta saying  _ lame _ right now). 

 

“He just wants to see my draft of the quarterly report,” Sicheng says, defensive. 

 

“ _ Lame, _ ” Yuta sighs, as expected. “Boy better step up his game.” 

  
“Shut up he’s your boss,” Sicheng says, affronted. He doesn’t know how Yuta can be so  _ casual _ with everyone in the company, even his superiors. Sicheng could never bring himself to talk about Taeyong like that. Every time they were in the same space, Sicheng was painfully reminded of their differences. Taeyong carried himself with a cool confidence, while Sicheng usually shrank into himself, feeling awkward in a country where he was still trying to learn the language and culture. 

 

“You realize you’re allowed to be friends with him? He’s a nice guy but you’re too afraid to talk to him outside of work.”

 

Sicheng hums absentmindedly, typing a reply, being careful to avoid any typos and grammar mistakes. He reads over his response three times before deeming it appropriate, and hits ‘Send’. 

 

He sighs and walks over to his couch, plopping down onto it. It was Sunday night, and like every other twenty-something with an office job, he really wasn’t looking forward to going to work the following morning. 

 

_ But if I get to see Taeyong, it’ll be worth it, _ he thinks, smiling despite himself. 

 

Sicheng spends the next twenty minutes fiddling with his phone, talking with Yuta, and reading over Chenle teasing Kun’s new haircut in the  _ China line (+Yuta) _ group chat. 

 

“Oh, hyung, I suddenly remembered something,” Sicheng says, interrupting Yuta and his rant about how he and Hansol got into an argument about the best sports anime. “I think there’s something wrong with my dick?” 

 

There’s a beat of silence. “What’s wrong with your dick? Besides the fact that you never use it.” 

 

Sicheng’s friendship with Yuta is long past being awkward about their bodies. And Yuta had been an EMT while in college. He’s not about to consult WebMD to find out he has three incurable diseases and only months to live. 

 

“I dunno… it just doesn’t look normal? I think there’s something growing on the side. Do you think it’s a tumor?” 

 

“I’m pretty sure it won’t be a tumor, but send me a pic.” 

 

“‘Kay, gimme a second,” Sicheng says, hastily pulling down his sweatpants and boxers. He snaps a picture and checks it to make sure it’s the right angle so Yuta can see what he’s talking about. 

 

Right as he’s about to open his chat with Yuta, the smoke detector blares, and he almost drops his phone on his face in surprise. 

 

“What the fuck is that?” Yuta asks over the line. 

 

“The smoke detector,” Sicheng says, panicked. He taps open the chat and sends the picture, and then a  _ idk what do u think? _ before getting up, pulling his pants up and running towards the kitchen, where smoke is pouring out form. 

 

“Why did the smoke detector go off? You were just boiling-- Don’t tell me you fucking forgot you had something on the stove!” 

 

Sicheng ignores Yuta’s screeching and grabs the pot (previously filled with water and rice cakes, now pitch black), almost drops it because he forgot oven mitts, and puts it in the sink, turning on the water so that the smoke will disappear. 

 

He then runs for the smoke detector and fans it with the oven mitt, trying to get the godforsaken noises to stop. After a few seconds of violent fanning, the detector turns off, and the apartment suddenly feels deafening in its silence. 

 

Sicheng closes his eyes and takes a few deep breaths, trying to calm his frantic heart. He then goes for his phone. 

 

“Hyung I’m gonna end the call okay? I feel like I just had a heart attack.” 

 

Yuta sighs. “Fine fine. Don’t think I’m gonna let you live tomorrow though. Everyone in the group chat is gonna hear about this.” 

 

“Dammit hyung…” Sicheng grumbles, but he accepts it. This is what he gets for not having better friends. After a quick goodbye, he cuts the call, and looks at the pot, now steaming, in the sink. 

 

It takes him a good fifteen minutes to scrub the pot clean of the charcoal bits formerly known as tteokbokki. After he’s done, he puts it on the dish rack, and promises himself never to try cooking ever again. 

 

He picks up his phone and opens up his messages. As expected, there’s a slew of texts from  _ China line (+Yuta) _ , mostly from Chenle, which are audio recordings of him laughing (though screeching would be a more accurate descriptor), a sad Pepe meme from Renjun, and a concerned message from Kun, reminding him to open his windows to get rid of the smoke. 

 

Sicheng then opens Yuta’s private chat. 

 

**Mountain Man**

U never sent the pic?

 

Sicheng’s blood suddenly runs cold. He scrolls through their chat, and as expected, there’s no trace of him sending any pictures. 

 

**WinWin**

I thought i sent it tho?

I swear i sent it

 

**Mountain Man**

Hmm

Maybe u sent it to someone else? Lol

 

Sicheng knows Yuta is kidding, but the thought of unsolicited pictures ending up in someone else’s chat makes Sicheng want to vomit. He exits out of Yuta’s chat to see whether he’d sent anything to anyone else. 

 

He doesn’t have to look far, because he can see his careless  _ idk what do u think _ as the last thing sent to Lee Taeyong. 

 

The scream he lets out is not human. 

 

\--

 

Maybe Sicheng shouldn’t have frantically messaged the group chat right after he realized he’d sent a nude to his boss. But he’d sent a  _ nude _ to his  _ boss, _ he certainly wasn’t prepared to handle that by himself. 

 

But the pitying looks from his friends makes the anxiety stir at the bottom of his stomach. It makes the situation that much more  _ real, _ painfully so, and now he has no choice but to face the facts. 

 

The walk to Taeyong’s office is short, and Sicheng can’t decide whether that’s a blessing or a curse. He takes a deep breath, schooling his face, and knocks on the door three times. He hears Taeyong’s invitation to come in, and he mutters a quick prayer, before opening the door and stepping inside. 

 

“Hello, Sicheng,” Taeyong says, standing behind his wide oak desk. He looks perfectly composed, hands in his pockets, eyes intense as he watches Sicheng come forward. 

 

“H-hello, hyung.” Sicheng wants to punch himself, because even in this hideously awkward situation, he still feels flustered by Taeyong’s handsomeness and aura. 

 

Taeyong motions at the chair on the other side of the desk. “Take a seat.” Sicheng nods.  _ It’s over. _

 

As he settles into his seat, he notices two wine glasses and a bottle of what looks like expensive wine (he’d only recently stopped being a broke college student, getting his wine from the liquor aisles of grocery stores, so he can’t really confirm). 

 

Sicheng eyes Taeyong warily as the older man takes the bottle and uncorks it. He pours the red liquid into one of the glasses. “Do you know why you’re here, Sicheng?” He pauses, looking at Sicheng with those intense eyes, before pouring the second glass. 

 

“I…” Sicheng swallows thickly. “I accidentally sent you a dick pic.” 

 

“I have to say, Sicheng, you really took me by surprise. I’m a bit more old-fashioned, and I want to take things slow--” Taeyong pauses. “Accidentally?” 

 

Sicheng blinks, and suddenly, he’s forgotten how every bit of Korean he’s learned. 

 

“I actually uhm--” Sicheng is pretty sure he’s babbling in Mandarin now.

 

Taeyong’s normally passive face flashes through several emotions, before settling on a nervous smile. “You were going to send that to someone else?” He grabs his wine glass, forcing out a laugh. “Right, that’s fine. Mistakes happen, right? It’s so easy to mix things up in this day and age, right?” Taeyong takes a large swallow of wine, and Sicheng can’t quite breathe. 

 

“Would you like some wine? I just happen to have it laying around…” Sicheng brings himself to shake his head no. “Aah! I was testing you! You shouldn’t be drinking on the job, definitely not.” Taeyong drains his glass. “You passed the test, Sicheng, congrats!” 

 

Sicheng’s eyes dart towards the door in panic.  _ What on earth is happening right now? _

 

Taeyong seems to sense Sicheng’s mounting distress. “That’s all, Sicheng, you can go now.” He laughs nervously again, and grabs the second glass, downing it in one go. Sicheng scrambles out of his seat, doing a ninety degree bow before making it to the door. 

 

\--

 

“Let me get this straight,” Yuta starts. Currently, he, Kun, Renjun, and Chenle, are surrounding a catatonic Sicheng, crouched behind copying machine in the workroom. “He wasn’t mad about the dick pic?” 

 

Sicheng shakes his head, wrapping his arms tighter around his knees. Renjun rubs Sicheng’s back, and Kun gets up to go get him some water. 

 

“So you’re not fired?” Kun asks, handing Sicheng the disposable cup. Sicheng shakes his head again. “Isn’t that a good thing?” 

 

“But… wine… he said… take things slow?” Sicheng is apparently incapable of speaking in anything other than sentence fragments. 

 

“He wanted to take things slow? What about wine?” Yuta frowns, trying to piece things together. He’d always been the best out of everyone at figuring out what Sicheng was trying to say in butchered Korean. 

 

It takes a few minutes of interpreting to get the full story out, and when Yuta explains to the others what exactly had gone down, Chenle is screeching, Renjun has his lips pursed to keep from smiling, and Kun looks mildly scandalized. 

 

“So, in conclusion, Taeyong’s been into Sicheng this whole time and he was sad that he didn’t send nudes on purpose,” Yuta finishes with a flourish, teeth and gums on full display in a grin. Sicheng presses his palms to his overheated cheeks, trying to curl into himself.  _ This can’t be happening.  _

 

“Are you gonna confess, then?” Renjun asks, his soft voice almost drowned out by the volume of Chenle’s cackling. He shoves Chenle aside to get him to quiet down, and looks at Sicheng, imploring. 

 

“What? Why would I?” Sicheng blinks owlishly at his friends. 

 

Chenle is the first to speak up. “Because he basically confessed himself? And everyone knows you’re in love with him, so why don’t you tell him it was all a misunderstanding and kiss kiss fall in love?” Chenle raises a single, well-groomed eyebrow at Sicheng, which makes him rethink saying anything else. 

 

“But do we really know Taeyong likes Sicheng? That it’s not a product of Sicheng sending him that picture, and he’s just trying to take advantage of the situation?” Kun asks, ever the rational one. Sicheng smiles at him gratefully, glad someone is voicing his reservations. 

 

“Okay first,” Yuta starts, “Is Lee Taeyong the kind of person to take advantage of anyone?” Silence. “No. That’s right, because Lee Taeyong wouldn’t hurt a fly. Second, I’m going to deliver the biggest plot twist--” Yuta pauses for dramatic effect. “Taeyong’s liked Sicheng since he started working here.” 

 

Sicheng splutters, vehemently denying it. “There’s no way!” 

 

“For someone so smart, you sure are stupid,” Yuta says, effectively shutting Sicheng up. He pouts, looking at the ground. “He goes out of his way to help you all the time. He’s nice to everyone but it’s pretty clear he favors you. He keeps the fridge on this floor stocked with your favorite ice cream. He even left a board meeting once because you texted him saying you needed to ask him a question. Hansol was there, he told me.” 

 

Sicheng throat closes up. What is he even supposed to say to that? He’d been pining after someone who seemed so unattainable, and was comfortable admiring from affair, but suddenly the idea of those feelings being reciprocated is terrifying. 

 

“I… need to think about this,” Sicheng says, after a minute of silence. 

 

“What is there to think about? You both wanna--” Chenle is quieted by an elbow in the stomach, courtesy of Renjun. 

 

“Just… don’t take too long? I’m pretty sure Taeyong hyung thinks you don’t feel the same way so who knows what he’ll do.” 

 

\--

 

When Sicheng said he needed to think about this, he really meant he’d completely ignore it and avoid Taeyong at all costs. It’s been three days, and even the rest of the finances department are wondering what’s wrong with Sicheng, why he’s not coming to the department meetings, why he locks himself in the bathroom every time Taeyong comes out of his office.  

 

“Sicheng,” Kun says softly, knocking on the wall of his cubicle. Sicheng is struck with an odd sense of deja vu as he turns to greet Kun. “Taeyong wants to see you in his office.” His heart starts hammering wildly against his chest. 

 

“Does he sound mad?” If Sicheng was in his shoes, he’d be mad too. 

 

Kun shakes his head. “Not mad, just… sad. You shouldn’t have avoided him like that.” 

 

Sicheng swallows down the guilt as he stands. “I know. Do you think he’ll fire me for real now?” 

 

“I don’t think Taeyong would ever do that to anyone. He wouldn’t let personal matters affect work,” Kun answers, always reasonable. They walk down the hall together. 

 

“What do I do?” Sicheng whispers. 

 

“Just be honest with him. Communication is key, okay?” Sicheng can only nod, and Kun gives him an encouraging smile, before walking back to his cubicle. 

 

He looks at Taeyong’s office door, at the plaque engraved with his name and position put up right in the middle. Offhandedly, he wonders whether there will ever be a time where he’s going to end up at Taeyong’s office and he won’t be terrified. 

 

Sicheng finally musters up the courage to knock on the door, and, like last time, Taeyong calls him in. 

 

Taeyong is sitting behind his desk this time, wiry glasses perched on his nose. He looks more resigned than last time; that cool confidence Sicheng had always admired is nowhere to be found. 

 

“Sit down, Sicheng.” And who is Sicheng but to comply? There’s a beat of silence, and Sicheng stares resolutely at his lap. “You’ve been avoiding me.” It’s not an accusation. The way Taeyong says it, he sounds… sad. Like Kun said. 

 

“I…” Sicheng musters up the courage to look up. “I was… embarrassed. And I didn’t know… what to do.” 

 

Taeyong’s gaze is warm, if not a little resigned. “Did I embarrass you, Sicheng? I admit… My behavior wasn’t entirely professional.” 

 

“Ah no!” Sicheng says, voice too loud. He quiets down when Taeyong looks a little taken aback. “That’s… that’s not it…” He bites down on his lower lip, searching for the words. He’s still not as fluent as he wished he could be, and in this kind of situation, he’s especially at a loss for words. 

 

“I… I like you, hyung.” Sicheng watches carefully as Taeyong’s eyes widen a fraction. 

 

“But you said… that you accidentally sent the picture?” 

 

“I meant to send that to Yuta hyung…” 

 

Taeyong’s eyes widen even more. “I thought Yuta was dating Hansol?” 

 

Sicheng shakes his hands frantically. “No, I wasn’t sending it because of that! I was…” He wonders how to explain that he thought he had some sort of disease on his dick and make it less embarrassing than it already was. “It’s just a misunderstanding. Yuta hyung and I aren’t like that, I promise!” 

 

It’s quiet for a moment, and Sicheng lets Taeyong process everything. Finally, he speaks up. “If you like me, then why did you avoid me?” 

 

And  _ oh lord, _ Taeyong sounds so pitiful, it makes Sicheng feel even more like a jerk. “I was trying to sort all my thoughts. I’ve just liked you for so long that… being in that situation was really… uhm. Shocking.” 

 

Taeyong laughs sheepishly, scratching the back of his head. “Ah… yes. I didn’t exactly… approach it the right way either, did I?” 

 

Sicheng bites his lip. 

 

“But… I guess with that all that explained… It’s pretty obvious that I like you too, right?” Sicheng nods. “And I meant what I said. I’m a bit old-fashioned, and it feels like we’re doing this a little backwards.” 

 

“I promise I’m not like that! I didn’t want to send you any pictures like that. I mean… I can if you want? But not right now, it’s too early for that. I don’t really feel comfortable with that...” 

 

Taeyong smiles fondly at Sicheng, and it’s a familiar expression. Sicheng really is stupid, not noticing all the little things Taeyong had done for him in the past two years. 

 

“Relax, Sicheng, I’m not ready for that either. For now, let’s just go on a date first?” 

 

Sicheng bites on his lip again, this time to hide his smile, and looks down, nodding once.  _ Is this really happening? _

 

“Also… I still have some of that wine left, if you’d like to try it.” 

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> congrats for making it through this hastily written fic! i love taewin so much i just... it hurts me so much.......  
> find me on tumblr @taewinnies!


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